Angel of the Opera
by Takada Saiko
Summary: There is an angel that sings in the top of the once burnedtotheground opera house. I know that's not much of a summery, but it's hard to describe. See my AN inside, please. R&R.
1. prologue

A/N: A bit of an explanation here. I typically don't like reading fanfics based on "the children of so and so characters". I don't know why, but I don't. But I also have a habit of forming up ideas of what two characters' children might be like, but don't often write it down since I don't like reading it. This is my exception to my own rule (as were Will's kids in my PotC stories) simply b/c I was talking to some friends about this crazy idea I had, and one of them told me I had to write it. Therefore here it is. If you don't like reading about the children of characters, I completely understand. I'm in the same boat with you, but if you do, please review and let me know how you like this. Thanks very much.

TS

**Prologue**

"Go! Go now! Go now and leave me!" Eirk's voice echoed through the underground room after Christine and Raoul as they struggled with the boat through the water.

"We can't… We can't leave him like this," Christine whispered.

"He let you free, Christine!" Raoul answered as he pushed the paddle through the still water, forcing the boat to glide. "You're free now and he will meet the doom he deserves."

"What?"

"He's a murderer, Christine. He deserves what they bring to him."

The opera singer let out a small gasp of astonishment. "What will they do? Oh no! Raoul, we must go back for him! Erik!" she screamed back to where they had come from.

"What do you think you're doing, Christine?" her fiancé asked, voice giving way to the fear he had felt. "Pleased, dear, quiet now. It is over."

"It is over now….?" She asked quietly.

"Yes."

"The music of the night…." She sang very softly, so softly that Raoul was not quite sure of the words. They left the opera house in silence amongst the chaos.

* * *

_three weeks later_

"She's gone, Monsieur," the servant said soberly as he stepped from his master's path.

Raoul entered the room he had given to Christine and stared into the emptiness. Everything had been as it had been when he had taken his leave the evening before. Everything except for a lone envelope on the dresser.

_Dearest Raoul,_

_Forgive me._

_Christine_

"He's taken her," Raoul managed. "He's taken her from me!"

* * *

Christine Daaè ran through the streets of Paris, tears streaming down her face. The opera house looked perfectly horrid to her all ready sorrow filled heart and the sight of it made her give a loud cry of anguish. She fell on the steps, face buried in her hands and crying.

"Christine?"

The young lady turned, eyes searching until she found the dorm of Madame Giry in the darkness. The aging woman stood with a shawl pulled closely around her shoulders, a sad smile placed on her face. "Dear child, should you not be with your soon to be husband?"

"I could not bare…"

"Could not bare what, Christine?"

"He gave it all for me, Madame Giry… He gave it all and I betrayed his trust. His love! What kind of creature does that make me? They call him a monster – I told him I hated him! – and if he is so horrible that makes me the devil! I am no better than a murderer if I have killed a man's soul, Madame! I have killed his Music! What kind of… What does that mean? What does that make me, Madame?"

Madame Giry reached forward and ran a thin hand along the side of Christine's face. "Your choice, dear?"

"Is there one to make?"

The aging woman that had been like her mother nodded. "Come, child."

Christine sniffed and ran a hand along her face to push the tears away, following Madame Giry up the steps to the burned opera house. They made their way through the half-collapsed door and through the once grand ballroom. "Will they rebuild?" she finally managed.

"Yes, I should think so."

"Good."

"Come now, child, pick your feet up and walk. One in front of the other, that's a girl. Down we go. Dear, certainly you know this path. No? Well stay close." The wound down the stairs, the light giving way to darkness and finally the woman before her stopped. "Descend as far as you can and you will find familiar territory, I should think."

"Will you not come with me?"

Her smile was barely visible in the dim light. "You have made your choice, child, and you need to prove that to him. He might think that I brought you here."

Christine nodded as she started forward again, her eyes adjusting slowly to the candles that lined the walls now. Every few were lit and she made her way to the end where it broke off the room she knew well. He sat in the darkness there, only a few candles around him so that he might see the music in which he worked with. She aloud a small smile before singing softly. "_Father once spoke of an angel. I used to dream he'd appear."_

Erik looked up, startled by the voice he was sure he'd never hear again. He stood slowly, staring. Their eyes locked.

" _Now as I sing I can sense him and I know he's here. Angel of music, guide and guardian. Grant to me your glory. Angel of music, hide no longer, secret and strange angel. " _Her breath caught in her throat and she dared go no further. She put her hand to her mouth as a gentle sob escaped her lips, her eyes still locked with those beautiful green eyes that had held her heart and soul since he had first sung to her.

"Christine."

_"Angel, my soul was weak. Forgive me."_

"What are you doing here, Christine?" His voice was that of one who had been beaten down and he looked back to his music, shoulders down as if a heavy burden lay on them.

"I had to come to you," Christine sobbed. "Erik… I am sorry, my angel."

"You made your choice."

"And I chose you, did I not?"

"To save him!" he screamed, swiping a hand across the table and scattering the papers here and there, eyes blazing with hurt and fury.

"I was wrong!" she yelled back, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Erik! Understand that I was wrong! Would I have come back?"

"Go back to your husband."

"I have no husband. We were to be married to-morrow. I left him, Erik. I left him for you." She moved toward him, her hands clutched desperately to her chest. He stood over her, looming. She looked up to him. "I will sing for you only, if you wish it. I will do anything for you to take me back."

He reached a shaky hand to her face and caressed it gently. She took hold of it, slipping his glove from it and kissing his palm. "My angel."

"I am no angel."

"You are. You are the one my father sent to me. If I know anything, I know that."

Her phantom let out a breath that he had not realized he was holding and he pulled her close. "Christine, you have returned."

"And I shall never leave you again."

* * *

A/N: So that's the prologue, because by goodness, I still think the Phantom should get Christine! Anyway, the actual story starts in the first chapter, I just didn't want to jump in and people to look around and say "Wait? Didn't Raoul get the girl?" Anyway, please let me know what you think thus far.


	2. ch1

**Chapter One**

"Monsieur, you really will enjoy the opera house. It has been long enough since I left with you," Leron Follet said as he and his benefactor approached the once more grand opera house. "One would never have imagined that it burned so horribly twenty years ago." He turned back in the darkness of Paris' night to search out the face of the man that followed him. "Monsieur de Chagny? Are you all right, sir?"

Raoul de Chagny looked at the young man that he had taken away from that horrid place five years earlier. He had never meant to stumble – quite literally – into Meg Giry. No, Meg Follet, he corrected himself. Madame Giry's young, beautiful daughter had two children and a recently dead husband when they had met again, but her sorrow from her loss was masked as she had smiled with the light of the world in her eyes as she told him what a singer her young Leron was and of Lisette, her beautiful dancer that was only a year younger. They were children strait from heaven, she had told him. It had been then that Raoul had asked if the boy had wanted to travel. A talent shouldn't be wasted, of course. He had not been sure what had possessed him to ask at the time, but looking at the boy now a man of eighteen that walked a few paces ahead of him, he was not displeased with the result.

"I'm well, Leron. Keep your eyes in front of you before you run into something," he chided kindly.

"Didn't you know my mother from the opera house?"

"I'd much rather not talk of it."

Leron shut his mouth and turned his eyes to the walkway ahead of him and then to the steps in which he took two at a time up to the top. He scurried into the beautiful opera house and looked around him at all of its glory. He glanced back to Raoul, who lingered at the door. "Come in, sir," he beckoned to him with a mischievous smile placed on his thin lips. "Perhaps we'll hear the Angel of the Opera."

"The ghosts have been replaced with angels now, have they?" Raoul muttered sourly.

Leron placed a finger to his lips as he moved up another flight of stairs and into the room in which held the stage and the marvelous chandelier. He looked up to it and smiled slightly as he heard the distant sound of a soft voice.

_"Think of me. Think of me fondly when we said good-bye. Remember me once and a while. Please promise me you'll try. When you find that you once again long to take your heart back and be free…. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me."_

Raoul paused again where he stood and watched his young ward looking toward the ceiling as the words flowed down to their ears and the lad's face lit like the sun had touched it. The elder man followed his gaze to see the shadow of a figure he could not see clearly.

"Please, sir, if I might…"

"Of course," Raoul answered as he moved away.

_"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But if you can still remember, stop and think of me."_

"Is that an angel's voice that graces our opera house?" Leron asked with a smile on his face.

The owner of the voice's gasp echoed through the otherwise empty room and Leron turned a smiling face up toward her. "_Angèl, Angèl, won't you come down from heaven just a moment for me?"_

"Leron?" her surprised voice echoed down to him. "Oh Leron!"

"Don't let me stop your heavenly voice!"

"_Think of me. Think of me waking silent and resigned. Imagine me trying to hard to put you from my mind," _she sang, her voice wrapping around the room as she descended by way of the hidden stairs. _"Recall those days, think back to all those times, think of the things we never knew. There will never be a day when I don't think of you!" _She landed the end of the stairs in a run continued her quick pace across the stage and down to Leron, her expressive green eyes wild with excitement. She seemed to fly from the stage as she leapt into his arms. "Oh Leron! You've returned to us!"

"Upon my word, Angèl! No child any longer!"

She smiled and hugged him closely. "Nor you, Leron. Oh, you are sly! You heard me sing, you know you shouldn't. It is not good to sneak up on an angel while she sings."

"It is not good for an angel's voice to be kept from those of us that melt for it."

"I thought I was alone."

"Is it so late?"

"Yes."

"I had no idea, honestly. Monsieur and I-"

"Monsieur?" Angèl asked as her eyes traveled past her friend and to the doorway. At the sight of the man that lingered there, her small, pale hand gripped tightly to Leron's jacket. "He can't be here! Who is he, Leron? He shouldn't wander this place now! Out! Out I say!"

Leron let forth a chuckle that echoed. "Still a spoiled princess!" he announced to her. "Does Grandmama still tell you stories of ghosts and angels when you sleep?"

"Madame Giry does no such thing and has not done so since I was young!"

"And your mother?"

"Mama has not done so in years either!"

He laughed again, not only at her indignant responses, but at the fact that the simple diversion had steered her away from her quick temper. As quick as it came, it simmered again and was out, leaving an angelic smile on her features. She pushed back a strand of near black hair and stared at him with those green eyes. "So cruel, my old friend, that you forget I am no child now. Does Papa know you're here?"

"My own mother and sister do not."

"Horrible lad!" she announced, laughing between her words. "Are you the one who took my Leron away from here?"

Raoul looked over, startled to note that the girl- though it was hard to think of her as such with her angelic voice-had spoken to him. "Yes," he said simply, not commenting on the possessiveness in her young voice. He looked her over for a moment, noting her disheveled curls that fell around her face and her eyes that seemed to glow. "Do you sing for the opera?"

"Papa won't allow it yet."

"Still no?" Leron asked.

"Yes. Soon, though, I feel. He has something new that he said needs my voice and I have worked hard. Now that you're back you can sing the lead male role!"

"Me? Certainly not… I've hardly sung while away."

"The unpardonable sin!"

Leron laughed. "To your dear papa it will be, I fear." He turned back to Raoul. "He was my teacher, as well as hers."

"Ah. Why should I not be here?" Raoul asked suddenly. "You are here, and certainly I can protect myself far better than you."

"I am always here, but you should not hear my voice. A curse will be laid upon you." She stopped a moment. "I won't tell this time, because you didn't know, but next time you shan't be so free of it."

"A curse?" Raoul asked, a frown forming on his face.

"Yes, now leave. Get out. Out I say, before the curse decides to place itself upon you!" she said with a near-giggle, her exotic green eyes dancing.

Leron laughed. "Certainly you wouldn't turn him out this late, little angel? No. I will escort him to safety, never fear. He's not one to poke his head into it all."

"Good. Make sure not to let him hear again."

Leron shook his head and continued to smile. "Good evening, Mademoiselle Angèl."

* * *

A/N: Enters our story's namesake. Please R&R.

Lynx Ryder: AHH! So good to hear from you! Since I haven't been working on PotC I never get reviews from you so I was so happy to see you were the first reviewer of my story! Thank you for having faith in my writings, that means a lot to me :) If you have any advice along this as a fellow "I don't read so and so's kids fics" person, please let me know :)

Octopus1738: Wow, really:really excited: That's good b/c this is my first PotO fic. Or "phic" as I keep seeing it written. Clever… hehe… Anyway, thank you very much for your response! Hope this chapter was as good as the first!

TBC

TS


	3. ch2

Chapter Two

_"Angèl, Angèl? Where are you hiding?"_

Two green eyes peered through the darkness of this mist that surrounded the underground lake. "Lisette!"

Her friend smiled as she pulled the boat to the shore and hopped out. "You've hidden yourself away too long, my dearest friend. I thought you might peek out for a while? Leron asks after you often since he returned."

"But his friend is with him."

"Are you embarrassed that that man heard you sing?" Lisette giggled.

"Hush!" Angèl hissed, her eyes turning wild. "Don't speak of such things!" She turned her eyes at once back to Lisette. "Papa was wanting to see Leron. Why has he not broken away for a moment's time to come down?"

The younger girl felt a smile pull her lips. "You're wanting to see him as well. Won't you be at the ball to-night?"

"Is there one?"

"A masquerade."

"Oh!" Angèl clasped her hands together over her heart. "Then I shall be there, certainly!"

"Good, then we shall keep our eyes open and watching for the Phantom and the Angels to make their way."

* * *

The music poured around her, enveloping her and filling her very soul as she stepped into the room via a secret entrance. No eyes turned to the small beauty with an ivory mask and elegant black dress. She reached one bare hand up to her ebony curls that were mounted on her head and checked to make sure they had not fallen to one side or the other, her eyes searching the room with a keenness to them that was beyond most others in the room.

_"There was an angel in the room tonight and her voice was that of heaven's light," _a voice came softly behind her.

She turned with a smile planted on her lips. "Leron!"

"You've been avoiding me."

Angèl secretly blushed beneath her mask. "I've been busy, Leron. Not all of us may lounge around day in and day out."

"Who lounges?" her old friend asked with a smile. "Certainly not I! Is your father here?"

"Somewhere. Sometime."

"Ah, the way it always comes about."

"Look at it all, Leron! Aren't they beautiful?"

"_Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade."_

Angèl smiled brightly and kept her voice low. _"Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you."_

"You have the most familiar voice. It becomes more familiar to me each time I hear it. As if I will place it the next time."

Angèl turned and glared at Raoul. "Monsieur! Did I not warn you of the curse?"

The elder man gave a sad smile. "My dear, you know nothing of curses."

"Do I not?" she asked bitterly.

"If you do, certainly you are not afraid of a little thing like an opera house curse," Raoul mocked. "Sing, child."

"I cannot."

"You will not. I've heard you sing. You can."

"Then I may not! Whatever it is, I shan't be doing it!"

Raoul seized a hold of the young girl's small wrist, though not unkindly. "Come now, you must share a talent like yours. A voice that sounds as an angel's." A voice that sounds so like Christine's, he added silently.

* * *

"Erik?"

Erik blinked twice, pulled from his brooding by his wife's gentle voice. She peered at him worriedly. "Love, what is it?"

"Something is wrong. Where is Angèl?"

"With Leron. You know he is back now. She is no longer a child, Erik, we cannot keep her with us forever."

"Bah," the Phantom answered with a wave of his gloved hand, bringing a soft laugh from his wife. She took hold of his hand before it dropped again and pulled it to her face.

"I would think that you would be at least somewhat pleased that it is Leron and not some young man that caught her fancy. Leron, at least, should have your blessing."

"Don't speak of such things," Erik moaned.

"She's no younger than I was," Christine answered, reaching her own hand to her husband's face, caressing his mask and looking up at him with flirtatious eyes. "He is a good boy, even now."

"Yes, but-" Erik stopped, his keen eyes focused fully on the stage and Angèl being led up by a man who looked strangely familiar under the mask. "Angèl?"

"Oh dear," Christine breathed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you one who sings with heaven's grace through her voice. Mademoiselle Angèl." He finally let her wrist go and whispered something in her ear, causing her face to go paler under her mask.

Her voice was indeed heavenly when it came forth, tentative at first, her eyes searching for her father in the crowd. _"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of Music, hide no longer, secret and strange angel. He's with me in the night, all around me. Don't be frightened…"_

Christine's face, which had gone white with horror at the sound of Raoul's voice, now lit up at the sound of her daughter's voice "Isn't she lovely, Erik?" When no response came, she turned to the emptiness that had just been inhabited by the full form of the Phantom of the Opera. "Erik?"

"_Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me strange angel… Come to me Angel of Music…"_

The lights flickered around her and Angèl looked back to where she saw her mother standing. Alone. She moaned to herself and hurried off the stage in one of the lapses of darkness. As she felt her way behind the curtain, she bumped into something. Someone. "Papa…"

"One rule, child, that is all I asked of you," he muttered lowly as he set a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You are done here tonight, and be grateful that I don't bring my curse upon those that heard heaven's voice tonight."

Angèl looked upward as they walked. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"That man that pulled you to the stage. Who was he?"

"I don't know his name, Papa. He is the one that took Leron abroad."

"Stay away from him."

"Gladly."

There was a pause as Erik opened a secret door. "And stay away from Leron as well."

Angèl stopped in and stared in horror for the briefest of moments before picking up her skirts and following down into the depths of the opera house.

* * *

A/N: Erik's protective streaks are always dangerous to those he doesn't like, ne? Hehe… Hope you enjoyed.

Lynx Ryder: No problem about the other stories. I'm just glad to see that you like this genre as well. (personally I think everyone SHOULD like it, but I'm biased.) I can't get enough of it, either! Isn't it wonderful? I've seen the movie twice and am absolutely longing to see it again! Raoul backing off? Does he ever? Ha! I was telling someone about this story and she goes "Kill Raoul!" haha! I found the idea highly entertaining, but we shall see…..


	4. ch3

**Chapter Three

* * *

**

"Why did you do that?" Leron demanded of Raoul as the elder man came to him once more.

"What?"

"Take her to the stage! She _told_ you that you'd bring a curse upon everyone."

Raoul scoffed. "Nothing has happened, and nothing will. Not even twenty years ago did a real phantom roam these halls, but a man in the guise of a spirit. Your precious Angèl's voice will bring nothing down." Well, he certainly hoped not, in any case.

Leron's shoulders slumped. "There are worse things than a shattered chandelier," he mumbled with a small smile. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I will go and find her. I doubt her father is pleased with her."

Raoul watched him disappear towards the stage and watched him go no further. He turned to walk into the crowd when a figure caught his attention. A woman. Her face was partially hidden behind a black mask, but even with twenty years gone by she was so familiar to his eyes. He moved closer, calling "Little Lotte?" ever so softly.

Christine turned, her eyes wide in surprise. "Raoul!" she hissed.

"Christine, then it is you, after all this time."

"What on earth are you _doing_ here, Raoul? You must leave. You must go now."

Raoul shook his head. "Then he has his spell about you once again."

"It is no spell," Christine answered as she set her shoulders strait, her back equally the same and pulled herself up to her full height. "It is love. Now leave, Raoul. You are not welcome in his opera house."

"I shan't leave without you, my love."

"And if I don't wish to come with you? I made my choice."

"He's caught you in his spell!"

"Leave, Raoul, please. Don't cause me to think ill of you, my old friend. I don't wish to." Tears filled her eyes as she turned away from him. "Please, I wish only to remember you as my childhood friend."

Raoul reached a hand out, pausing before touching her. "Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls or-"

"No, Raoul, I am fond of Erik. I am fond of my Phantom. My Angel. Now go," she whispered in a rush.

"I will not let you go this time, Christine! I fought too hard to free you!"

She turned and fled as quickly as she could without bringing unwanted attention to herself. She left Raoul standing, stunned, and perfectly alone.

* * *

"Angèl?" Leron called quietly, his voice echoing trough the halls of the underground home. "Angèl? I'm terribly sorry…"

"Leron! You shouldn't be here!" the girl's voice answered, though she herself did not appear. "Papa was displeased."

"I came to apologize. Monsieur had no right."

"No, he did not, and for that reason Papa has forbidden me to see you."

"What!" Leron raged, eyes searching frantically about the area. "How can he? What have I done! Angèl, this has gone too far, you are no longer a child. Please, come with me." He reached out his hand toward where her voice had come from. "Please, Angèl, they are still at the party, won't you come with me for just a bit and we can have time together."

Angèl stepped out from her hiding place, her mask still firmly planted on her face. "You know I cannot."

"Someday you will have to make your own decisions."

She turned away from him for a moment and he thought she would run from him, but instead she pulled a cloak from where it hung and wrapped it around her own shoulders, pulling the hood over her curls. "We shan't be long?"

"I promise to have you back before midnight," he said with a smile. "Come now. Quickly."

* * *

"Christine?"

"Erik!" the opera singer called out in surprise. "Even now you can approach without my knowing."

"Are you crying, love?" he murmured in her ear.

"Don't let him take me, Erik," she pleaded, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh please, don't let him take me away from you!"

Erik pulled his love closer and held her protectively. "Never. I won't ever let him take you."

* * *

A/N: Just a warning that I'll be out of town until Saturday evening and so I may not update till sometime Sunday.

Lynx Ryder: I doubt I'd kill Raoul… I don't like him, but he's soooo much better in the movie than he is in the book. He's a sniveling little brat in the book! Lol.


	5. ch4

**Chapter Four**

Erik pulled his angel closer to him and she fell into him willingly, her sobs subsiding only slightly. "Can we go home, Erik?" she whispered into his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around him. "Please, my love, can we just leave this horrid party. I've seen all I can bare of him."

The Phantom nodded silently and led her down a secret passage they often used. They descended down the stairs. "Why would the boat be here?" Christine whispered. "I thought Angèl was…" She turned her eyes to her love, who looked irate. She grasped his hand and eased it out of the fist it had clenched itself into. "Angel… Please. She will be back soon enough. We cannot hold her captive forever."

"She doesn't understand that place," he managed between clenched teeth.

"That place? Above and beyond our opera? Perhaps she should."

* * *

"The streets are beautiful when it snows," Angèl whispered. "Though, seeing them from above is something more."

"Is it? Will you show me?"

Angèl let a smile cross her face. "Of course," she whispered as she pulled her hood closer around her pale face. "Come with me. There are stairs on the outside of the opera in the back, incase of fire. It really is just like it was in the original opera house. Beautiful. Come."

Leron followed her quick steps to the back of the opera house and up the ice-covered steps, careful not to slip, and as his eyes became level with the rooftop, his breath caught. "Did your father ever finish the opera he was working on when I left?"

"Which one?" Angèl laughed.

"The one that described a scene much like this. He looked upset when he'd speak of it."

"Oh, I know which one you're talking about. No, he hasn't finished it yet. He said it will be finished when I can sing the lead role. See here, Leron, look over!"

Look over he did and he smiled. "Beautiful…."

"Isn't it?"

"Yes, but you are what I meant."

Angèl blushed. "I should be getting back, Leron. Papa won't be happy with me at all."

Leron reached a hand out for hers and grasped it. "What were the words to that one song?" he asked, his voice low in a near whisper. _Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you'll need me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go to. That's all I ask of you…"_

_"Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning. Say you love me…"_

"You know I do."

Angèl brought a hand up to her mouth in a quiet movement, her eyes cast downward. _"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Anywhere you go, let me go to. My love, that's all I ask of yo-"_

The sound people below cut the sound of her voice off and Angèl froze mid-word. She peered over the side of the opera house to be greeted by the sight of police and what looked like the beginning of an angry mob. Her face paled more than it had before and she let out a gasp. "I should never have left the opera house," she whispered, turning to flee down the stairs, leaving Leron alone on the snow-covered roof.

He shuddered, taking in the same sight, only his eyes focused on one man. "Monsieur de Chagny…? No… _Angèl_!"

* * *

A/N: running off, so I'll respond to reviews next time. Sorry!

TS


	6. ch5

**Chapter Five

* * *

**

A/N: Okay, I've loved Michael Crawford's voice for years, as my parents introduced him to me through their CD when I was little. When the Phantom of the Opera movie came out I promptly searched high and low for that cd, finally finding it, and fell madly in love with the song "Music of the Night." Needless to say, I absolutely adore Mr. Crawford's beautiful, breathtaking voice. Now the point of all this: Has anyone seen "Hello Dolly" with Barbara Streisand? Michael Crawford was very young in that (and very adorable!) and I find it soooo funny that you see this lanky, almost geeky looking young man talking with a funny accent (I think it's an attempt at American… just makes me laugh) and then he starts singing and it's absolutely awesome! Sorry random

* * *

Angèl heard his voice but chose to ignore it as she flung open the doors to the opera house and ran inside. Everything was in chaos as the managers tried, with little help, to control the mob and her eyes finally rested on Christine Daaè and then to the people who screamed and wailed about the Phantom of the Opera.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

A man in the uniform of the head of police turned to her. "Mademoiselle, you should not be in the middle of this."

"No no! What is this! You must tell me!"

"The murderer has been found."

"Murderer? What do you know of it?" she demanded, turning swiftly away. "Mama!"

"Angèl, please, child, go with Leron. Leave this place now. I won't let him find you. I won't let him take both of my loves in one day," Christine sobbed, holding her only daughter to her for a moment. "Please, please…"

"I won't let them march into our home and take us hostage like animals! We are not demons! We shall not let them do this!"

"Angèl…"

"Mademoiselle Angèl," Raoul's voice came from behind her and she turned.

"You! You're in charge of all this, aren't you! Who are you!"

"Raoul… Won't you just leave?" Christine sobbed.

"I will not let him take you this time, Christine. I shall save you!"

"Raoul? Raoul de Chagny?" Angèl whispered. "No… No, you stay," she directed at her mother as she turned to retreat down one of the secret passages.

"Another child caught in his web," Raoul muttered under his breath. "Does this not end?"

"Monster," Christine hissed as she turned to follow, but Raoul caught her wrist in his hand.

"No, Christine, I am no monster. That _thing_ you say you love is the monster!"

* * *

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you'll want me with you here, beside you. Wherever you go, let me go to. Christine, that's all I ask of…_

Angèl was caught by a strong hand on her shoulders as she rounded the dark corner. "Papa!"

"Angèl, what is all the racket up there?"

"They've come! He's come for Mama! We must go."

"No," her father answered, shaking his head slightly.

Angèl finally looked past him, her deep green eyes taking in the damage that had been done to their home. "What happened?" she breathed, seeing things in shambles. Her eyes then met her father's, noting the pain that was visible on the left side of his face and the limp with which he walked.

"They tried to get in through the back entrance first. An explosion… Everything fell in around them."

"And you."

"Angèl, go with your mother, I cannot protect you."

"You have spent all the days that I have been alive protecting me, Papa," the young girl said as she reached for the mask she had hidden away in her garments and slipped it onto her face. "Now it is my turn to reverse that role."

* * *

"Monsieur!" Leron called, gaining Raoul's attention at last. The boy stopped, near out of breath, and caught Christine's eye. "What is going on?"

"We've found the Phantom," Raoul said with a small smirk. "Come with me, boy, and you can see what a true monster is. He's got that girl of yours down there, in his own personal hell."

"Angèl went down there? But there's been an explosion!"

Christine's face went white. "No…" she whispered. "Not them both!"

"Come, Leron, we must get to him before he escapes!" Raoul beckoned as he darted off for the hidden stairway in which he'd traveled down twenty years before.

They rushed down to the depths of the darkness, Leron making no word of what he knew. He followed closely, knowing that his love's mother would soon follow if she could. He felt himself shiver, his mind quietly asking him if perhaps the Phantom had finally lost his mind down in this dark place and stolen his own daughter away from the world to harm her. Erik had never let her go far away. It was unspoken, the rule to stay in the opera house. Fear kept her there, though Leron did not know if it was fear of her father's wrath or fear of the unknown that lay outside the doors. His head jerked up and looked towards Raoul as the elder man stopped, muttering to keep his hand at the level of his eyes. A figure moved in the darkness, then melted into shadows once again. A voice, like one of an angel's, echoed trough the room.

_"Welcome to the dungeon of black despair. Down you plunge into the prison of our minds. Down that path to darkness deep as hell!"_

"The Angel of the Opera," Leron breathed. "So different… She's so different."

"What?" Raoul demanded.

"Not my Angèl's voice, that is the voice in which she would never sing," he whispered, fear ringing in his tone. "That is the voice of one betrayed. Oh… My Angèl," he groaned hopelessly.

The breeze swept around them and several candles lit as if of their own accord, showing the lake to their right and a figure dressed all in black with a black mask covering half her face, long ebony curls cascading down her back and sharp eyes that drove into their souls. The Angel of the Opera stood before them in all her fury.

"Angèl," Leron breathed quietly.

"You dare speak my name?" she demanded coldly. "You who walk with him! You who left with him, knowing! Knowing! You who followed him! You who took me away when you knew I could not leave! We shan't be gone long, of course," she growled. "LIAR!"

"I had nothing to do with this!" Leron argued. "I would never-"

"Speak no lies." A chilling smile crossed her lips. "Papa," she called, "I think we have guests." She turned to Raoul with an almost child like delight dancing through her eyes. "Sir, this really is an unparalleled delight. I'd rather hoped that you would come. And now my wish comes true. You have truly made my night."

"We came to free you from this," Raoul answered her, not yet grasping onto what had happened.

"Ah? From what? My home?" She giggled at the expression on his face and took one step forward, the candle light glinting off the black mask. "Monsieur, I bid you welcome to our labyrinth."

"Our?" Raoul managed.

"Angèl, come with us, please," Leron pleaded. "This can all be worked out. Perhaps Monsieur is right."

Green eyes lit up with blazing fury. "Have you no faith in me?" she demanded. "No, no, of course not. You! It was _you _who made me leave!" she screamed, then her voice turned to an angel's once more. _"__This world it's given me nothing I can find. And only the Phantom of the Opera may hear me sing. This, the only rule I've ever known."_

Leron's eyes widened. "Please, Angèl, let us not talk of such things. It is so dark down here… Come back up."

"_Shall I give my soul to darkness? Shall I breed hate? Outside of her, all I've known! But in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is here, inside my mind." _She moved closer to Raoul, who instinctively moved away, and spoke lowly. "Did you think he would harm me? My own father? Why should he cause me harm?" She ducked her foot down in the edges of the underground lake and pulled a rope up from it, looping it around the elder man's throat. _"Where are your threats now? Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now! _But perhaps to leave us alone. _This is the choice. This is the point of no return!"_

Raoul's eyes flared with his own fury. "'Poor Erik!' she cried! 'Poor Erik!' No 'Poor Raoul!' No 'Poor, sweet, lover!'"

"_Tears I might have shed for your sad fate grow cold and flow as tears of hate!"_

"Angèl!" Leron cried.

She turned to him for a moment, locking eyes. "_There's no point in striving! Any way you see that you cannot win! Angel of Music, I should have listened! When you told me of our cruel fate! Angel of Music, the world is truly cold. There's no point in hiding. The light that my hope held now grows dim." _

"Angèl!"

The green eyed angel looked back to her father who stood, leaning heavily on a wall, eyes locked on the scene. Such memories it pulled! He watched her carefully as tears streamed down her face and her hands shook. Voices clattered from overhead as Christine was the first to make it down to the site, followed just behind by Lisette and Meg, Madame Giry with them as well as the police. "ERIK!" her voice sounded through her sobs, and she saw her daughter's tear stained face.

The lead officer stepped forward. "Release him, child!"

Angèl turned her eyes toward him, filled with the sadness that she had never understood as she pulled the mask off, revealing her angelic features. _"We are creatures of darkness. You can't imagine the life that we've known. Now I can see that we are forever alone!_"

"Let my daughter be!" Christine screamed as the officer's gun went off high above their heads, silencing everyone, though sending debris falling from the ceiling.

Angèl's scream echoed through the open room as several bits of rock fell around her, slicing their way down. She heard Raoul's gasp of "Daughter?" as all went black.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I had a bit of fun with Phantom lyrics and twisted them around to suite my chapter and it was suppose to, mostly, match up with "Down once more/Track down this murderer", except for the set that starts out "This world had given me…" which is set to the "Phantom of the Opera" theme. Anyway, this entire scene is really what I had running through my head when this began, and I wanted the confrontation between Angèl and Raoul. If it got confusing, I'm sorry, it was trying to come from my head and sometimes that is best left in that mass of chaos than on paper. Haha, so let me know! Please!

Elle1617: I know that you reviewed for chapter one, but I can really only respond to you here… I'm not even sure if you'll see this since you wanted me to email it to you, so I'll send you one just to make sure. :) thanks for reviewing

Lynx Ryder: I'm really worried about this chapter, so I'm highly looking forward to your feedback! It looked so nice and dramatic in my head with the CD running behind it to back up the switch of lyrics, so I just hope that it'll look that nice written out. Let me know! Thanks for reviewing so faithfully :)


	7. ch6epilogue

**Chapter Six/Epilogue

* * *

**

Raoul stood with his eyes wide. "Daughter?" he asked, eyes wide with shock, but then his eyes turned soft as tears stood in them. "Then you truly love him…"

Christine was next to Angèl within half a moment and the girl was stirring back towards consciousness. Erik stooped next to them, reaching a shaking hand to his beautiful daughter's face where the porcelain mask she had worn had splintered when hit by the debris, slicing into her face. He closed his eyes briefly and stood, shaking with a murderous rage as he looked at the officer.

"Papa? You'll hurt yourself more," came a quiet voice.

Christine took his hand. "Erik, please don't. They'll leave, won't they, Raoul?" she asked her old friend pointedly. "You will tell them to leave, won't you?"

"Yes," Raoul answered softly. "You heard the lady, leave."

"But, sir, you really have no authority to –"

"I was the one who told you he was down here. I see I have made a mistake now! Go!"

The officers looked to one another nervously and back to the aristocrat who had since taken the rope from his neck and thrown it back to the ground. They moved out slowly, the mob dissipating and leaving everything in apparent chaos. Raoul looked to Leron who was staring at Angèl and her parents intently. He started forward and the boy, more a man with every step he took, let out a shaky breath. "Angèl…"

She looked at him, trying to wipe more of the blood from her face and forcing back a bit of a laugh. "Perhaps I'll have to take the name of 'phantom' from you, Papa. I will do little good as an angel with a marred face as this."

"You are still beautiful," her father said as he pulled her to him. She turned her eyes upward, smiling a bit, but then she turned back to Leron.

The man stood with his eyes fixed on her, pleading for forgiveness. Begging for it. Their eyes met as she stood onand he moved forward, dropping to his knees before her, and grasped blindly at her cloak. "Angèl…" was all he seemed to be able to say, his voice holding a strange melody-like quality as he repeated it over and over, tears streaming down his face in pure loathing of himself and what he had blindly done and allowed. "What can I do... How can I ever..." he managed, voice beginning to sound choked by the sob he had managed to keep down.

Angèl knelt next to him, running a long, thin finger along his smooth cheek. _"Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime," _she sang in a near-whisper. _"Say the words and I will follow you. Lead me, take me from my solitude. Love me, that's all I ask of you."_

Leron reached forward and grasped her, pulling her close where her bloodied cheek rested on his shoulder. _"Wherever you go, let me go to."_

_"Say you love me."_

_"You know I do!"_

_"Love me," _Angèl sang, Leron's voice coming in half a beat later. _"That's all I ask of you."_

Erik looked on at the two, eyes slightly wide. He stood slowly with Christine's help, favoring his leg. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "She alone can make our song take flight," she whispered into his ear, kissing him again and he pulled her close.

_

* * *

_

"Monsieur! Where are you going?" Leron called out over the stairway of the grand opera house.

Raoul looked back over his shoulder, adjusting his top hat has he did so. "I am leaving, of course." He gave the young man a small smile. "It's time that I… bow out with as much grace as I might be able to regain. Congratulations on your engagement, lad."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your bride's father is pleased with it?"

Leron laughed as he descended the stairs. "He said that if someone had to marry her, it might as well be me, though I wasn't quite sure how to take that! He loves his daughter very much. I promised that I would not take her away from this place and we would stay."

"That should keep him happy."

"I do believe I made his day with my promise."

Raoul smiled. "Give your bride my congratulations as well." He paused. "And tell her mother… thank you."

"What for, sir?"

"Everything." He tapped his walking stick on the marble floor. "Do well with your life, lad."

"Wait, sir! One moment. Won't you come to the opening act of Angèl's father's opera?"

"Erik has a new opera? Perhaps I might see it. What is it called?"

"_The Phantom of the Opera_."

Raoul smiled a bit and tipped his hat. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

A/N: There's the end. Hope ya'll enjoyed it!

Tracy137:Thank you very much. It was a bit choppy, wasn't it:sigh: oh well, I knew there was something wrong with it, but it was so clear in my mind. Though as my father has pointed out many a time, if I could put what was in my mind directly to the public, it would drive them mad. Thanks for your review!

Number 356:Ah! Thank you so much! You're so kind! I'm glad you like it :)


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